


From Underneath the Avalanche

by WayfaringWriter



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Gets a Hug, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Look At Your Life Look At Your Choices, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Protective Clint Barton, Resolved Romantic Tension, Snow, Snowball Fight, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Winter, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24135436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WayfaringWriter/pseuds/WayfaringWriter
Summary: Not all wounds are visible at a first glance. Often it is easier to show people those which they expect to see than admitting to those buried deep. It doesn't make either any less real.Bucky is maybe too good at hiding both. So good in fact, that the Avengers see scars which are not necessarily there. Or at least not quite what they appear to be.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 14
Kudos: 68





	From Underneath the Avalanche

**Author's Note:**

> Far as my notes are to be believed, this OS idea just turned a year old recently. These past few days it got buffed up from the 500ish words it was stuck on and grew depth, so I decided to finish it up and release it to the world, to see if it finds any friends. ♥
> 
> Separately Hawkeye and Winter Soldier are my true loves of the Marvel universe. When I found out that WinterHawk is a thing, I might have weeped for its perfection. Thanks to everyone else who shares in this particular pleasure.

It took Bucky some time to realise that there was an issue.

The first year he spent in the tower with Avengers, he was still reeling from gaining his identity back. His primary point of contact was Steve because despite having been separated for more than half a century, Bucky still gets anxious when he can't check that the idiot hadn't managed to kill himself at least every other day. His secondary point of contact was JARVIS because 21st-century ceiling robots, he couldn't _not_ talk to him. His tertiary point of contact was the ceiling went ghost whom he ended up stabbing through the wall. The not-actually-a-ghost turned out to be one Clint Barton, idiot archer extraordinaire. They ended up getting along pretty good, once Bucky treated the, thankfully shallow, stab wound. Nothing beats shared trauma as a conversation starter.

Bucky hadn't even _thought_ about leaving the tower at that point.

The year after, he ventured out from time to time, even helping the team on the few occasions which either warranted two snipers or warranted one, but Clint was unavailable. That year it hadn't seemed unreasonable to relocate southward when a snowstorm was about to hit New York. Steve said they'd be back if needed, after all.

It was only a little strange when a similar thing happened the following year, after an unexpected drop in temperature in November.

Twice is a coincidence. Three times is a pattern. And a pattern it certainly seemed to be, when Tony mentioned during the team dinner that they should fly over to the Malibu mansion for Christmas and the New Years'.

It would have seemed casual, if not for the fact that only a few hours prior, Bucky had heard some newscaster cheerfully predict that "if the weather forecast holds, we might get a white Christmas in New York this year". The in-between hours between the news and Tony arriving last to dinner being filled by the majority of the Avengers disappearing one by one.

With the confirmed three-time pattern, Bucky realised that it wasn't all about the longer trips either.

Whenever the temperature dropped, there was always someone around who derailed him from going out. It could be Steve or Natasha dragging him off for some sparring, Tony tinkering with and/or upgrading his arm or Clint-

Suddenly some of the snippets of conversations he had overheard over the years and especially recently made much more sense.

"You still don't trust me," Bucky surmised as he put his utensils down. He lost his appetite.

"What do you mean, Buck?"

' _Playing dumb, is it?_ ' Bucky shot Steve a look. When it was hard to keep the bitterness from even your thoughts, there was little needed for it to spill over.

"I'm not an idiot. We're never here when it goes cold. Anytime a cold wave is about to hit NY, you ship us, ship _me_ , off somewhere warmer. I can't go out when it gets anywhere close to freezing. There's always someone to stop me because of something that just _oh so conveniently_ keeps me inside. I was even benched last month when that idiot with a freeze ray attacked the mall! You don't trust me. You're waiting for me to snap. Still waiting for something to _trigger_ me into a killing spree."

"Bucky, that's not what-"

The hand that reaches for him is slapped aside as Bucky glares into the blue eyes of the resident archer.

" _Don't_ touch me."

The hesitancy with which Clint pulls his hand back to the table hurts, but Bucky squashes the urge to apologize.

He has the right to be angry _goddammit_.

WH

"So, that could have gone better."

"Shut up, Tony," Clint snarls as he gets up to go after Bucky.

"Don't." Steve blocks his way. "Your tempers are both too high. You'll only end up angering him more. He needs to cool off first."

"Accurate wording, given the-"

"I'm sure told you to _shut up_!"

WH

Despite having asked JARVIS for confirmation, the range would still have been the first place Clint would have checked when searching for Bucky. They have similar coping mechanisms and routines and two hours was way too short a time limit for Bucky to have moved on. The next in line would be drinking and/or pizza for Clint, but though Bucky indulged sometimes as well, he hadn't settled yet, trying to explore all that this century has to offer.

He still has years to catch up on at least a semblance of normal life.

 _Bang._ Bullseye. _Bang._ Bullseye. _Bang._ Bullseye.

'Good thing Tony is loaded, Bucky's practice ammo would put a lesser man out of business,' the archer can't help but think as he picks up his bow. After that, it is more of a subconscious decision to start practising at the neighbouring target.

He does not initiate a match, nor challenge the other marksman to a duel including increasingly ridiculous handicaps as he'd normally do.

Some days are meant for the tacit kind of support.

Eventually, even Bucky, trained as he is to practice through pain, starts winding down. Soon afterwards Clint finishes his own set and puts down his bow as well.

They stand like that for a few minutes. The silence not oppressive as it could seem, given the sudden absence of any sound but their breathing.

"I thought I could trust you."

Clint knew, on some level, that _that_ had been the crux of the matter. It still stung.

"You know we'd never do anything that-"

"I thought I could trust _you_."

"Oh."

Bucky starts packing up when more isn't forthcoming.

Admittedly it takes Clint some time to process all the implications of that sentence. That it was him specifically, who had hurt Bucky the most. That it was his stupid decision to inquire with Cap and to suggest to Tony, that maybe they should keep Bucky from cold, not to _trigger_ him. What a stupid choice of words, thinking back to it.

Clint first brought the issue up after the time Bucky returned to the tower spooked for some reason. Clint had associated it with the sudden snowfall at the time and maybe it even had something to do with the snowfall, but not with the connotations he drew. And of course, Bucky found out about what an idiot he had been.

Thankfully enough, he comes to himself before Bucky could proceed from packing up to leaving.

"I'm sorry."

"That doesn't make it okay."

"No, it doesn't. I wish you would listen to what I'm about to say anyway."

Bucky seems to consider it for a minute, as he puts away the last of his equipment. Then he returns to where Clint is standing,

"I'm listening."

"Thank you."

Being the centre of Bucky's sniper focus was slightly unnerving but at the same time, it was all and more than Clint could have hoped for.

"Right. So. First of all, this was never about trust. My trust in you or the team's. I thought that with all the trauma connected with the cryo it would be better if we shielded you from it. We actually do something similar with Cap, you weren't the only one benched from that mall freeze ray mission, because he _does_ have issues with anything that could end with him encased in ice. And Lord, do I wish sometimes that I could be benched from the missions including mind-altering individuals and substances. But those are generally about infiltration and everyone else is too well-known, too flashy, and so I go. A panic attack or a flashback triggered during a mission can be dangerous for everyone involved, and it's even worse if it happens and you have to deal with the fact that someone got hurt because of _your_ trauma. It sucks _so bad_. So I wanted to help, but in typical me-fashion, that backfired. I know you're still unhappy here. I want you to get better. I fucked up trying to figure it out on my own, so I'm asking you this time: How can we help?"

Clint is not sure how long Bucky continues staring at him. Too long, likely. At the same time, there has never been a thing called too long or too short, when dealing with PTSD and associated conditions. Everyone has to keep to their own pace.

" _Don't_ \- ever decide for me like that again." Bucky grits out eventually, the arms he crossed in front of himself at some point as obvious a defence mechanism as any.

Nodding, Clint thought that to be the last of it, but to his surprise, Bucky has more to add.

"It's not the cold that was ever the problem. Well, the _biggest_ problem. It was being treated like I wasn't human. For them, I wasn't. I was a weapon - a _tool_ \- and sometimes not even that. I'm not just a toy you can take out of the chest when you have an urge to play with it. HYDRA had been doing that for decades, but this time, it was people who I came to consider my friends suddenly in charge of the toy box. I can't go back to that. I _can't_."

The averted eyes doubled with a shuddery exhale are probably even more telling of Bucky's fragile mental state than the words by themselves. Both Bucky and Natasha had been trained to show no emotions, but despite that Bucky had become quite forthcoming with showing his as the years went.

It was a bad time to realise that, aside from the occasional nightmares and their aftermath which he couldn't hide, Bucky had been careful about only showing the _positive_ ones.

"And I... I used to play in the snow with my sister, whenever there was any. Even with Steve, the few days every year before he ended up bedridden because of the cold. He always started throwing snowballs at the older kids who were being mean to the littles, the punk," he trailed off. Contrary to Clint expectations there was more melancholy than pain in his voice. "I get that I'm branded by them; that I might seem like a landmine waiting to blow right now. But Becca, Steve and snow... those are some of the best of my memories from even before the war. I don't want them to have taken that from me too."

As Bucky's words died down, Clint took to packing up his bow. The rattle of the equipment was soothing in its simplicity, a quiet acknowledgement of Bucky's words, without vocalising anything.

If it had been anyone else, Clint might have considered hugging the man. Damn, he _did_ consider hugging the heck out of Bucky even right that moment. The same way he imagined kissing the sad off Bucky's face on his increasingly rare bad days. However, he knew that having chickened out of doing both so many times already, forcing himself into Bucky's space in the aftermath of this emotional whirlwind would have been _the worst_ time to do so.

They'd been dancing around whatever it was that they had the potential to become for way too long for Clint to act on it in the least appropriate moment in history.

The archer also had a major fuck up to correct first and he had some ideas about how to do that already.

"So- Do you have plans for Thursday?"

WH

"I didn't think this through."

Clint was in deep deep trouble.

"You didn't."

That was Nat for you, always so helpful.

"Why did I challenge _the only person in the world_ who's a rival in the sniper department to a snowball fight?"

"He was making sad puppy eyes at you, and you want him to make happy puppy eyes at you."

Tony snorted next to him.

"That's... pretty accurate, actually. _Damn it_."

Though to be fair, Clint had hoped more for the crinkly-eyed kind of smile, rather than the manic-glee he received as Bucky started stocking up on snowballs the moment they arrived at the Central Park.

"Are you even a marksman? Do snowballs even count into the art of marksmanship?"

Clint is suddenly eager for their "time to split up" alarm to go off, just so he can pelt the smirk off Tony's face. Until the signal though, it is considered bad manners to hit your own team members. Shame that.

"Excuse me? I'm _great_ at snowball fights!"

Of course, that was the moment one of Bucky's white projectiles hit him square in the face.

WH

"Everything hurts," Clint whined, idly making an impression of a snow angel.

They had to stop the Epic snow showdown, because of the interference by the NYPD. Apparently snowballs which had enough firepower behind them to dent a car were considered a danger to the society.

Clint had to agree.

Being the only non-enhanced human who a) hadn't chickened out and called his suit to protect him ("Really, Tony?" - "Suck it, I am Iron Man!"), b) wasn't stealth and martial arts master that used other people as human shields ("Et tu, Nat?" "Sorry, not sorry."), the archer felt it safe assume that he was going to be a walking bruise soon enough.

Even stupid (smart) Steve brought his shield to protect himself and he was the one who was going to feel the damage caused by Bucky's projectiles of death the least. Then again it was a snowball aimed at Steve that Bucky managed to dent the NYPD car with. There probably _had been_ some threat of damage.

So yes officers, their little snow fight got a little out of hand, sorry. Probably a good thing Bruce decided to hold the fort, considering.

Why did Clint think this was a good idea, to begin with?

"Are you a _sore_ loser?" Bucky's head materialises above Clint, his smile so wide the archer would be able to count all his teeth if he wasn't so blinded by its whiteness.

' _Aww, heart. Don't fail me now._ '

"I might be in pain and I really want a nap, but I didn't lose. It is a draw by default."

"So why are you lying here all whiny on the ground?"

"It's comfy."

"Sure thing, doll." Bucky laughs as he pulls him up.

Once vertical, Clint notices that though he is possibly the one who ended up the worst off - revenge for having organised the fight, served _cold_ \- the others are also liberally covered with snow. Aside from Bucky, admittedly, which works perfectly with what he has planned next.

"I might concede defeat-"

"Wait, what?"

"-on _one_ condition. Steve, bring me my pack, please."

He didn't tell the rest of the Avengers about his plans so it is understandable that Steve hands him the sodden backpack _very carefully_. It was probably the time to apologize about the explosive arrow accident. Again. But that was a matter for later perusal.

"Now kneel."

"Ooh, kinky."

"You're on thin ice with me, Tony, don't test me," Clint says distractedly as he rummages through his possessions. Finally finding what he was searching for, he holds it with both hands, mostly hiding what it is from prying eyes.

"You ready? Good. Now, James Buchanan Barnes, you have decimated us fair and square. For your valour in battle, I pronounce thee the Winter Soldier-"

A hush falls over their gathering, unsurprisingly, so of course, someone has to interrupt.

"Clint are you sure this is a-"

"Let me finish," Clint side-eyes Steve as he reveals the object in his hands. 

It's a crown. Not overly tacky, he would hope, but it _might_ have come from a kid's store Elsa costume. He originally considered getting a toy sword, but that would have been much harder to carry around unnoticed. So he stuck with the crown.

All in all, it was perfect for what he prepared.

"For your valour in battle, I pronounce thee the Winter Soldier, the mightiest soldier of Lady Winter, may she be forever proud of your accomplishments in her domain." With those words, he clips the crown onto Bucky's head, only idly noting that the blue jewel marvellously complimented Bucky's eyes.

The eyes which were wide and so very unguarded as they look up at Clint. Their disbelieving stare is further complimented by the silence which ensued, following his words.

It goes on for so long that the archer wonders if his aids had short-circuited from all the snow, but he also knows they had not and he starts to panic.

"I fucked it up again, didn't I? I should have gotten the sword. Or just let it be at the draw. I just thought that with what you said and _fuck_. This looks so bad, now that I think about it. I'm-"

Clint's ramble ends up cut short when he's tackled by over 200 pounds of a super-soldier, all pure muscle and whichever alloy the current arm is from.

"Ow?"

Bucky's eyes look even bluer from this up close. And then they disappear from the archer's view as Bucky wraps himself around Clint, laughing into his shoulder.

"Sorry, you were meant to remain standing. Just... Only you would come up with something this dumb," Bucky ends up saying.

"Uh. I'm sorry?"

"Don't be. This is the best thing anyone had ever done for me." The laughter is starting to sound much shakier all of sudden. "Thank you."

It's obvious that the entire idea is not the flounder Clint might have feared it to be for a second there, still, he feels the need to explain himself some more. 

"You and winter go back waaay longer than you and anything of HYDRA's. I just-" He unwraps his arms from around Bucky and cradling his hands around Bucky's face, he turns it so he can see into Bucky's eyes. "They didn't have the right to take this from you. You deserve good things."

Bucky's eyes are filled tears, but he doesn't seem wrung the way he had at the range. Instead, he's unburdened in a way that he never was before. He looks _happy_.

And then, just as Clint thinks that the day couldn't have gone any better Bucky proves him wrong by ever so slowly pressing a kiss to his lips.

"I'm starting to see that maybe good thing are closer in reach than I expected."

Clint has always thought that Bucky was the more courageous of the two of them. But instead of voicing that thought, Clint decides to steal a kiss of his own.

Things aren't perfect. Starting with the trauma that Bucky packed away instead of dealing with, there is still so much that they have to deal with. So many things that despite being so close they hadn't found the courage to share with each other, yet.

But lying in the snow like this, forehead against forehead, sharing breaths, things seem as close to perfect as Clint ever hoped to get.

It's enough.


End file.
